CLEGG
by Neil Davies
Summary: Jo Grant meets her sinister employer, and soon wishes she hadn't


CLEGG

Jo had only met her boss once before during the interview when he had sat with his legs crossed and arms folded looking irritable and bored, he didn't say a thing to her letting the personnel woman do all the talking. But just as she was leaving he'd seized by the wrist and looking right into her eyes he'd grunted, "We will of course check your CV and references most thoroughly." Then off he stormed muttering to himself, the personnel woman in toe looking terrified.

Well I'm not bothered Jo had thought my fake CV and references will hold up, UNIT know what they're doing.

Now she wasn't so sure, she had the impression Clegg knew all about her that somehow he'd penetrated the umbrella of security around her personal details.

"You are one of three things young lady," he said limping to a stool and reclining on this to take the pressure off his gammy leg. "An industrial spy working for another company who want the low down on my new process," he sniffed. "This would seem unlikely somehow so we move onto the second possibility, a journalist, a professional snoop looking for an exclusive."

The beard was smoothed slowly, "But that doesn't feel right either so we are left with the final option," His eyes narrowed, "You work for the security services, who some how got wind of my creation."

A hand waved lovingly at the pulsating mass of mould, which to Jo seemed to have increased in size and acquired several extra roots in the time she'd been here. "MI5," Clegg wheedled, "Special Branch or could it be," he chuckled to himself, "Yes that seems more than likely, after all they tend to specialise in unusual and extra terrestrial phenomena."

He patted the spider again which had sunk down onto its belly and was in the process of sucking in its legs, neutral mode as Jo thought of it.

"You can't expect me to just tell you everything professor," she said trying to come across as brave and resilient.

"Oh my dear," he said with fake geniality. "You have so little time left to live, why waste it on lies and deception?"

Was he serious would he kill her or leave her to the mercy of his little pet, Jo looked into those eyes and saw not a trace of human warmth yes she decided he was mad and he would commit murder to cover his tracks.

"What is that," she asked pointing to the mould?

"A remarkable advance literally a brilliant breakthrough," Clegg boasted with obvious pride. "A fungus whose spores are lethal to every human being on this planet, just humans mind not any other kind of animal, after all why should they suffer it's only homo sapiens who are in the way."

Jo couldn't believe it, "But you're human, you'd die to," she pointed out.

"My dear young lady I will not be here when the fungus is released, I shall be totally safe."

What did he mean by that where could he go to be safe, some remote island or deep underground, would he lock himself in this lab?

"You can't be sure of that," she said.

"Yes I can, my clients have promised me."

Oh yes these mysterious buyers he'd gone out to meet, but who could they be to pay for something so vile? Realisation hit her with breathtaking force; in the end the truth was obvious.

"Aliens," she said and Clegg arched both eyebrows?

"Most impressive," he said snidely.

"You're helping an alien race wipe out your own people," she was aghast at the scale of his treachery it made no sense to her?

"My own people," Clegg repeated as though the notion were foreign to him. "Between you and me Miss Grant I've never really felt like one of the human race one of the common herd, as I think of them. Oh dear I see I've offended you," he chuckled not at all concerned about her feelings. "To be honest I find them a deeply unimpressive even dismally pathetic collection of misfits and malcontents obsessed as they are by celebrity, shopping and other pointless trivialities."

Jo blushed, thinking of the celebrity magazines in her locker back at UNIT, Clegg had touched a nerve there and she squirmed uncomfortably.

"Not everyone is like that," she responded. "And in any case that doesn't give you the right to commit mass-murder."

Rising off the stool and limping over to the glass case that housed his creation Clegg touched the side of the cover affectionately. "A new world Miss Grant, a totally new beginning free from petty politics, budget cuts and tedious commercial pressures that's what they're offering me – that and a lot more."

He rubbed his gammy leg, "Do you know how I got this, how I became disabled at the age of…well not much older than you are now; have you any idea then I shall tell you?"

Leaning on the table for support Clegg winced with obvious pain, "I and a rival scientist were competing to create a new drug, a treatment for a terminal illness the name of which hardly matters now. We were both on the right track and both making progress, for the winner there would be wealth, fame and a glittering career but only one of us could win this was not a prize that could be shared."

Features as hard as stone Clegg clenched a fist, "One morning as I was walking from the car park to my lab a vehicle pulled out it accelerated towards me and ran me down, shattering my foot, leg and pelvis totally. I could have been killed indeed I did almost die I was out of action for months and required many operations, during that my rival beat me to the post he made the breakthrough and won every scientific prize in the pot."

That was horrible thought Jo, "Are you sure it was him it could have been an accident?"

Clegg's grin was cynical in the extreme it was clear what he believed, "They fired me my employers, no compensation no sympathy no thanks for ten years of hard slog; I became an embarrassment, I was expendable, useless."

With his fist he struck the edge of the table and the pulsing green fungus reacted by shuddering violently, bubbles appearing on its surface as though it to shared its creator's anger.

"I swore then I'd get my own back on the human race and that time is fast approaching," a car had pulled up outside Jo could hear it and see the headlights, doors slammed and feet approached the building.

"Ah good they're here," reaching over Clegg touched a keypad. "It seems you're going to meet my clients after all a rare honour as they don't like associating with humans," he paused, "Most humans."

Jo was appalled the aliens were here now? She hadn't even had time to warn UNIT, to pass on her film.

"Don't do it," she pleaded trying to reason with this man. "Don't let them in don't give them what they want."

He looked at her incredulously as though she where out of her mind, but Jo knew she had to get through to him to make him see sense.

"There has to be a better way professor, I mean anything's better than genocide you can't kill every man, woman and child on earth just because you were badly

treated once."

"Once," Clegg roared, "I have been shabbily treated all my life by everyone I've ever trusted and that will not happen again!"

Jo heard the elevator begin to rise from the lobby to this floor, the aliens were moments away they'd be entering the lab in less than a minute.

Standing up she turned to the door, "I'm going to lock them out and seal the lab then I'm going to call my superiors," she said.

Clegg's tone was almost pitying, "You have a rare courage Miss Grant one could almost admire it but I can't let sentiment get in the way of a good deal."

The spider rushed in front of Jo and stood there poised its mandibles back on display; it seemed to be humming with anticipation. Jo looked around for a beaker of water but none were within reach and then it was too late the clients were walking in and looking at her with cold resentment.

Next episode……SEKMA.


End file.
